


Flaming Sambuca - Drunken Hands - One Shot

by VexedBeverage



Series: Drunken Hands [3]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast, smornby - Fandom
Genre: Birthday, Drinking, M/M, Swearing, smornby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7688323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VexedBeverage/pseuds/VexedBeverage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of Ross' 18th birthday party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flaming Sambuca - Drunken Hands - One Shot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FriedChickenNisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriedChickenNisha/gifts).



> This one goes out to the amazing Nisha, AKA The Goddess of Writing. 
> 
> Nish - I know I have said it a load of times but you really are an amazing friend and I love you to bits. I hope that your birthday is everything you could ever want it to be.  
> Happy Birthday Beautiful,  
> Love  
> Vex
> 
> \-- 
> 
> Also, a thank you and shout out to Smith, Lord Apple Juiceington for the help with this one :D you rock!

“All of you out.” 

Smith turned in his seat and tried to point a finger at the taxi driver but instead, collided with the glass partition, bent the digit back and let out a storm of expletives that had his companions snorting laughter over. 

“Look, it's not far.” Ross slurred to the man in the front of the vehicle. “It’s less than a mile.” 

The driver gave him a sour look. “I am not having him-” He said, gesturing towards Smith who now had his sore finger stuck in his mouth. “-be sick in my car, and I am sure you don't want to pay the fifty quid fine for that either, mate.” 

Ross huffed in annoyance but slid forwards towards the door that Trott was holding open and carefully climbed out of the taxi. “Come on, Smith. We’re walking from here.” He said, beckoning Smith forwards with his hand. 

“I can’t walk! I hurt my finger!” Smith insisted, holding said finger out towards the dark haired man. 

Ross leant back towards the vehicle and wrapped his hand around Smith’s wrist. “I’ll give you a piggy back.” 

Smith snapped his head up and met Ross’ eyes with a toothy grin. “Okay!” He enthused, shuffling forwards and only hitting his head a couple of times on the ceiling of the vehicle. 

Katie made her way to the driver's window and handed over their fare as Ross helped Smith stumble the rest of the way out of the vehicle and straighten up to his full height with a steadying hand on his back. “I got ya.” He soothed as Smith tripped over his own feet and Ross steadied him. 

The taxi drove off without hesitation once the driver had his money, leaving all four friends standing at the curb outside Trott’s house. 

“Do you need help getting him back?” Trott asked, eyeing Smith as he swayed on the spot with a shit eating grin on his face. 

Ross shook his head. “Nah, I think I can manage.” 

“I’m getting a piggyback!” Smith informed Trott with a thumbs up. 

Trott raised his eyebrows. “Sure you are, Sunshine.” He said. “See you later, yeah?” Trott directed the latter at the dark haired man. 

Ross nodded as Katie was swept off her feet by Smith. “Love you, lady fancy tights.” He bellowed, trying to spin them and falling against the waist high wall where he leant for a moment after dropping the redhead, -luckily- back to her feet. 

“Love you too, you absolute menace.” Katie replied, ruffling his hair before picking up her shoes that she had discarded back in the taxi and dropped when Smith had grabbed her. “Go take the birthday boy to bed.” 

“Oooh, saucy.” Smith winked at Ross, his tongue held between his teeth as he wiggled his eyebrows. 

Ross rolled his eyes but held his arms wide for Katie to walk into as Trott pushed at Smith’s side with his hip. “Later, mate.” 

As Ross stood, watching to make sure his friends got into the house safely Smith slunk over to him and threw an arm around his waist before fumbling around to put his hand in Ross’ back pocket. 

Ross raised a hand in farewell as Trott got himself and Katie into the house and shut the door. Instead of letting it fall properly to his side, he rested it across Smith’s shoulders as they stood side by side. 

“Come on, I want my bed.” Ross said, turning them both in the direction of home. 

“What about my piggy back?” Smith whined, halting their progress after a couple of minutes of walk/stumbling. Ross merely laughed. “You promised!” 

“No I fucking didn't.” Ross protested. “I only said it to get you out of the taxi.” 

Smith let his mouth fall open in disbelief. “You LIED to me?” He accused folding his arms and turning away from Ross. 

“I can barely stand up, Alex. I don't think I’m going to be able to carry you.” Ross replied after walking around Smith to get in his eyeline. 

Smith unfolded his arms and pushed Ross in the centre of the chest until his back hit the damp wooden fence behind him. “You just had to call me Alex, didn’t you?” 

Ross sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, white teeth flashing as he held it between them for a second before releasing it and then wetting his lips. “Alex.” He repeated with a sly smile. 

Smith practically whimpered before pushing his whole body as flush against Ross’ as he could. His head dipping to press rough kisses to Ross’ neck. 

Ross groaned as Smith rolled his hips into him, letting his head fall back against the fence and baring more of his neck to the taller man. “We should not be doing this here, Smith.” He managed to grind out between gritted teeth. 

Smith broke contact for only a second, just long enough to blurt out a ‘don't care’ before he had both of Ross’ hands pinned above his head and their mouths locked in frantic kisses. 

The alcohol in Ross’ system was clouding everything, making it hard to be bothered that they were technically out in the street where anyone could see, practically dry humping against one of Ross’ neighbours back garden fences. 

Ross felt himself sinking further into the feelings of Smith, close to the point of no return where nothing would be able to bring him back from the lust filled haze settling over him from Smith’s ministrations. 

Smith pulled back, panting and grinning at Ross. His eyes half lidded and full of arousal, he tightened his hold on Ross’ wrists with one hand and trailed the other down Ross’ chest slowly before a look akin to panic crossed his face and he pushed himself away violently. 

Before Ross knew what was happening, he was leaning down over Smith and rubbing his back as the taller man threw up what looked to be nothing but the alcohol they had been consuming for hours previously. 

********* 

The other side of the bed was cold and empty when Ross awoke. He squinted against the sunlight filtering through the curtains and let out a pained groan against the pounding in his head. 

 

The house was quiet, and looking over at the clock on the wall he assumed it was due to the early hour. 

Stomach lurching, he pushed himself into a sitting position and waited for a moment for his head to stop spinning before pivoting his body and planting his feet on the floor. 

Ross’ limbs were heavy and as he stood, his knees shook in protest. 

With burning feet, he shuffled as gently as he could towards the door, not bothering to pull on any jeans or a shirt. 

Once on the landing he could hear small noises from downstairs. The sounds of quietly clattering pans and metal on metal. 

Taking an iron grip on the banister he began down the stairs, treading as gently as possible so as not to jolt himself too harshly. 

The sight that greeted him once he got to the bottom of the stairs had him pausing to continue.  
Ross leant against the wall and felt a smile pull across his face at what he found before him. 

Smith was in the kitchen, clad only in his boxers. The tall man was singing softly under his breath to the low music coming from his phone that was resting amid the chaos on the kitchen counter. 

His hair was in disarray, white powder clinging to an area around the front where he had obviously been running his flour covered hands through it. 

Smith swayed slightly to the music as he tended to something in the frying pan, a spatula in one hand and a whisk in the other, stirring a bowl of beige batter. 

Ross watched with adoration in his eyes as Smith placed the cooked pancake on a plate and ladled some more from the bowl into the pan. 

The kettle clicked off and Smith span around to snatch it up, catching sight of Ross out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Morning, birthday boy.” He greeted with a bright smile. 

Ross wasn't sure he would ever get used to that smile, it was something that Smith seemed to reserve for only those closest to him and it sent butterflies swarming through Ross’ stomach every time it was directed at him - even after months of exposure to it. 

“Morning.” Ross replied, still leant against the wall. 

Smith placed the spatula down on the counter and turned the burner down with one hand before walking over to the other man in the doorway. 

Ross leant forwards into Smith’s bare chest as the taller man wrapped his arms around Ross’ shoulders. “Feeling rough?” Smith asked, burying his nose in the hair on Ross’ crown.  
Smith felt the other man nod against him as arms tightened around his waist. 

The bearded man pulled back from the hug, his hands trailing down Ross’ biceps until he had hold of both of his hands to lead him to the table and push him gently into a chair. 

Ross allowed himself to be steered into the seat and sat down without any protest, with an elbow on the table he rested his head on his hand and watched Smith finish their breakfast without comment. 

“Where’s my mom?” Ross asked as Smith placed a plate of banana pancakes in front of him with a ‘ta da!’. 

“She stayed at Rich’s last night.” Smith said with a confused look. “Were you really that drunk that you don't remember?” 

Ross shrugged as he reached out for the fork that Smith offered him. “It gets fuzzy at around the tequila shots and completely fucks off at around the pole dancing.” 

Smith smiled around his mouthful of food. “We did go a bit heavy, didn't we?” He said, sheepishly. 

Ross barked out a laugh that made his head pound. “A bit?” He asked, clutching at his head with one hand. 

Smith pointed his fork in Ross’ direction. “It’s Trott’s fault with the flaming Sambuca's.” 

Ross didn't protest to the statement and instead concentrated on eating as it was making his stomach settle and the tea was soothing his aching head slightly. 

The two men abandoned their empty plates in the sink and slunk off to the living room. Ross collapsed onto the sofa as if he had just ran a mile, not walked all but fifty feet from the kitchen.  
“Got you something.” Smith informed, reaching down beside the sofa and holding out a single, shockingly bright red flower with a bright yellow splash of colour on the interior and a waxy green stem. 

Ross wet his lips and slowly reached for the flower with a questioning look. 

“The woman in the shop said tulips are means to mean love and I thought you would like the colour.” There was a hesitance in the way that Smith spoke, as if he was unsure of how the other man would react to the gift.  
Ross’ lips lifted into a toothy grin as he accepted the flower with one hand and fisted the other into the front of Smith’s shirt to pull him in for a kiss. 

Smith practically melted against Ross as the dark haired man moved his lips against Smith’s. Descending from a sweet ‘thank you’ to something much more intense that had both men gasping for breath when they finally broke apart. 

“I might have to buy you flowers more often.” Smith commented with a crooked, half smile.  
“Shut up and get me a glass with some water in for it or something.” Ross said, pushing at Smith’s shoulder with a blush. 

Ross’ morning was spent drifting in and out of consciousness, his head in Smith’s lap as they watched whatever trash they could find on the tv. Smith’s hand kept a constant movement as his fingers combed through Ross’ hair absentmindedly until he too fell asleep in his seat.


End file.
